Seras smile widened. Putting on your bad cop hat, huh?
Doc, you havent seen anything like bad yet. When we getaw, hell, whats this?
It sounds like a siren.
Was I speeding?
Unless the limits upward of ninety, yes.
Crap. He slowed and pulled over.
The officer who approached the car did so with long, easy strides. He rested a forearm on the roof while Sig stretched back to snag the jacket behind him.
Is there a problem, Officer?
Not unless you make one. Got your license with you?
Got better than that. Sig fished in the pocket, handed Sera what she assumed was his lucky rock and produced his badge with a flourish.
San Francisco, huh?
She caught a trace of humor in the other cops drawl. His surprisingly sexy drawl, she thought. As for his features, she couldnt see them under the brim of his hat.
She knew he glanced at her before pushing off. Out of the car, please, Detective Rayburn.
Have I done something wrong?
Depends how fast you get out of the car.
Dont move, Sig told her. He had to shove twice on the door to open it. Youre starting to piss me off here, Officer. Im a detective with the San Francisco Police Department, homicide division. Who are you to be ordering me around like a common criminal?
Sera saw the flash of a surprisingly attractive smile. I clocked you at ninety-six miles an hour as you flew past Moss Creek.
Sigs balled right fist drew an even wider smile. A second later, her companion went from a short punch on the other cops shoulder to a backslapping hug.
It figured. Sera breathed out but couldnt bring herself to be annoyed. It was such a predictable male game.
Im damn glad to see you, Logan. Sig drew back, grinned. Howd you know? License plate give me away?
The taller man glanced from side to side. This isnt a car, Sigits dented metal on wheels. One of a kind. Without looking or pausing, he asked, Does she know?
Sig shook his head.
That did it. Shouldering her door open, Sera slid out. Excuse me, gentlemen, but she has a name. Its Sera, and the reason she doesnt know is because the man with the San Francisco badge refuses to tell her anything.
Its for your own
Protection. Got that one yesterday, Sig. But six diners, five gas stations and one truly crappy motel later, I think Ive earned the right to know not only where were going, but also why a police officer in another state is better informed than I am. She sent them a placid smile over the roof of the car. If its not too much trouble.
Apart from his badge and the lights on his Explorer, nothing about the man in front of her said law enforcement officer. He wore jeans and a short-sleeved black T-shirt. His boots were dusty, his hat was decidedly more cowboy than cop and if he was carrying a gun, Sera couldnt see it.
Sig matched her smile as he turned to his friend. Handful, he said.
See that, the man replied. He nodded forward. Nadinell be serving dinner about now. Her place is on the edge of town. You can follow me. Although his eyes were shielded, Sera felt his gaze across the top of the car. Nadine runs her grandfathers diner, Dr. Hudson. You can ask your questions while we eat. Nudging his hat forward so the brim hid the entire upper portion of his face, he added, Assuming once theyre answered, you still want to eat.
She wouldnt react, Sera promised herself. That would be counterproductive. Instead, she let Sig concentrate on the road that wound away from the interstate through a majestic expanse of pines, boulders the size of city buildings and a steady stream of out-of-state trucks.
Five miles in, the truck traffic thinned, the boulders softened and houses began to appear. Farmhouses at first, followed by larger, turn-of-the-century homes that ambled back from tree-lined streets.
A rustic sign with a hand-carved mountain peak rising above a lake welcomed them to Blue Ridge, Home of the Happy Mountaineer. Population five thousand, six hundred and twenty-seven.
Sig glanced in the rearview mirror. Do you see my smokes back there?
No, and Im not digging through a pile of old food wrappers and napkins to find them. Youre a rolling health hazard, Detective Rayburn. Cigar stubs, cigarette butts and God knows how many million bacteria, all alive and thriving inside your vehicle. You inhale coffee like air, pour enough grease into your arteries to kill an elephant and probably havent gotten eight hours of smoke-free sleep since you joined the force.
He chuckled. Youre a shrink, Sera. What does a head doctor know about high cholesterol, lung disease and sleep deprivation?
She lifted the dark hair from her neck. Among other things, my uncle does a weekend medical clinic in Haight-Ashbury. I help out when he needs it, which is often because he tends to be overrun and doesnt like to turn anyone away. How do you know him, Sig? she asked after a brief pause. The cop with the She started to say sexy mouth but changed it to black hat?
He peered into the setting sun. Oh, Logan and me go way back. A finger tapped the windshield. Is he pulling off the road? All I can see is dust.
Gravel parking lot. She let her hair fall. My skin hates you.
Your skins gorgeous, as, I trust, are your manners. Five stars
Yes, I know. Only in the night sky. As long as the foods recognizable, Im good.
And more than ready to stop, she realized, stretching her back as she slid from the car seat.
Every article of clothing she wore, from the pale-green linen halter to the white capris stuck to some part of her body. And it was going to be an adventure navigating the unpaved, pothole-filled parking lot in strappy three-inch heels.
A collection of trucks and SUVs sat at odd angles outside the weather-beaten one-story building whose sign read Franks Diner.
She stopped stretching to do a humorous double take down the side. Are those horses?
The bays Billy the Kid. The black is Jesse James.
She suppressed an urge to jump when the cop in jeans wrapped his fingers around her arm.
Nadines grandfather swears one of his ancestors was related to Jesse.
So he named a horse after him.
She caught the quirk of his lips in profile. No one you knows ever been named for a dead relative?
Not a notorious one, Officer
Leave it at Logan.
Evening, Chief. Rains coming. The man shambling past, sprinkling tobacco in a rolling paper, barely spared them a glance. Its my night for poker if you feel like letting us win back some of our hard-earned cash. Wouldnt blame you a mite, though, if not. Shes a real pretty lady.
Sera would have grinned if she hadnt caught the edge of a rut and almost snapped her ankle in two.
Horses, poker and holes big enough to swallow small children. Im charmed. She cast the man whod caught her a sideways look. Chief.
Its a label. Means nothing.
Uh-huh. It only signifies that youre in charge of a town containing five thousand, six hundred and twenty-seven souls. Which would make sense at this point in Sigs life. But everything about you screams big city cop to me.
His lips quirked again. You might want to check your inner voice, Doc. Cities and me dont get along these days.
Meaning they had once? Interesting, she reflected, as they reached the diners porch. But it wasnt as interesting as the fact that he knew her name and undoubtedly her story.
Several feet behind them, Sig sucked smoke into his lungs at an alarming rate. Because her arm was tingling, Sera eased free and strove for an unimpeded look at the man called Logan.
He was tall and rangy, with sleek muscles, long legs and dark hair that curled well below the back of his hat. He needed a cut and a shave. And she needed distance because not only was her skin tingling, but also her pulse was doing an erratic tap dance.
Food would help, she decided, plucking at the front of her top. Is Nadine a good cook?
Best down home in Blue Ridge.
He means if youre expecting art on a plate, you wont get it here. Sig studied the black clouds massing over the distant Big Horns. Those coming this way?
Joe says they are. Hes usually right.
Then we should get down to business.
Sera arched guileless brows. Were doing business? I thought we stopped here for answers and a hearty meal.
Im stopping, Doc. Got something different in mind for you.
Where was a control button when you needed one?
Sig
Youre not stopping, Sera. Youre staying.
Prepared for that response, she met his hard stare and simply asked, Why?
Because I trust Logan. Hes the best, and as bad as I wanted that bastard Blindfold Killer before, I want him doubly bad now. Hes murdered sixteen people over the years. That includes his most recent victims, your friend and my partner. You saw his face, Doc. I know it, and so do you. Unfortunatelyand this is where my faith in Logan comes inone hell of a vicious killer knows it, too.
Chapter Two
Your captain told me about the Blindfold Killer, Sig, Sera said. No ones sure why he ties a white bandanna over his victims eyes. Hes killed eleven people over a seven-year period, all in the Bay area. The San Francisco Police arrested a suspect four years ago, but they were forced to release him on a technicality.
Illegal search of his living quarters, Logan said. The officer in charge assumed a warrant was en route. He was mistaken.
Said officer has since been demoted and put in charge of a desk, Sig added gruffly. Then he brightened. Ah, here we go. Food.
Their dinner arrived courtesy of a buxom fifty-something blonde. It might not be gourmet, but it looked delicious. Almost as delicious as the man seated across from her.
Although shed braced herself for sexy, Sera hadnt anticipated the punch of desire that had rocked her when hed removed his hat.
And then, out of nowhere, a tweak of familiarity. But the sensory whisper came and went too quickly for her to capture it.
Sidestepping, she set her mind back on the man himself. To call his features arresting would be a serious understatement. And she couldnt imagine any woman not being wowed by the smoke-gray eyes that caught and held hers far too often for comfort.
One look at Logans face, however, and shed known he wouldnt be an easy read. Whatever haunted those mesmerizing features, hed buried it deep and very, very well.
Sig dug into his steak. What else do you know about our killer, Doc?
Refocusing quickly, Sera sampled one of the wedge fries. Two and a half years went by after the suspects release. Nothing more happened. Then he vanished, and it started all over again. The killer has committed five new murders, including Leo, in the past eighteen months. His MO is consistent, but his motive remains a mystery.
When Andreas lifeless face appeared in her head, Sera reached for her wine.
Thereve been two witnesses to his crimes. Number one vanished five years ago, before the police could bring him in. That makes me the best hope youve got of identifying this guy. Unfortunately, because I hit my head while I was struggling with him, I cant tell you if his description matches the original suspects or not.
Logan swirled his beer and sent a lazy look into the mug. You dont remember the guys face, but you do remember struggling with him.
Surprise halted the wine at her lips. The image reformed instantly. He blindsided me, she recalled. I fell against the edge of my desk.
Anything else? Sig asked.
She thought for a moment but couldnt pull any details from the blackness. Sorry, the rest is still a shadow.
Around them, the diner, really a roadside bar and grill, began to buzz as groups of dusty workers in steel-toed boots filed in.
Sig tapped an unlit cigarette on the table. New construction in town?
With his eyes on Seras face, Logan took a drink of beer. West end. Developer from Cheyennes building aresort.
The amusement that climbed into Seras throat felt good. Translationhes building a resort-style fishing and hunting lodge.
Sig tucked a pack of matches into his jacket pocket and scraped his chair back. I cant think in the throes of a nicotine fit. He gave Seras arm an awkward pat. Keep poking at that memory, Doc. This killers slick and slippery and far as we can tell random in his selection of victims. Logan. Cigarettes in hand, he made his way through the crowd toward the door.
He didnt finish his dinner, Sera remarked.
Logan speared one of her fries. Sig seldom finishes any meal that doesnt start with the prefix Mac.
How old is he?
Fifty-six.
He acts older.
Drawn-out investigations do that to cops.
Leaning in on her forearms, she absorbed his unfathomable stare. Im sure Ive seen. she began, but the fleeting sense of familiarity vanished again. Is that why you left? she asked instead.
Nope.
Door firmly closed. She picked up her wine. How long have you been in Blue Ridge?
Two years, three months, give or take.
And you became chief of police when?
Same answer.
Pulling teeth would be easier, she reflected, but nowhere near as challenging.
How long have you known Sig?
Longer than most.
Youre not giving me much in the way of answers, Logan.
His gray eyes glittered. Should tell you something about the questions.
Undeterred, she ran a finger around the base of her glass. You dont like small talk or, apparently, polite conversation. No problem. I dont need to know your history, and you certainly dont need to know mine. She made a visual circle of the increasingly noisy diner. This whole take- the-witness-with-the-faulty-memory to Wyoming deal was Sigs idea. It had nothing to do with me. I have relatives in Phoenix, Skagway, Tulsa and yes, Bugs, even Albuquerque. I have a cousin whos a law enforcement officer and an exmilitary aunt who flies supplies from Washington state to central Alaska. I could have gone to any number of people for help, but I went with Sig and wound up here. Why? No idea, but hey, you put your life in someone elses hands, who knows whatll happen.